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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23138713">Stiles on a Plane</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarevagar/pseuds/clarevagar'>clarevagar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Can You Keep A Secret? (2019), Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Can You Keep a Secret - Freeform, Crossover, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:53:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,383</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23138713</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarevagar/pseuds/clarevagar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Recently watched the movie 'Can you Keep a Secret?' and the whole time thought 'how much better would this be if it was Derek and Stiles on a plane?'. You're welcome, Adrienne.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski/Jackson Whittemore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stiles on a Plane</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/clare_hickey_is_cheese/gifts">clare_hickey_is_cheese</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles boarded the plane with more than his usual amount of dread. It was an understatement to say that the meeting had not gone well. His hands were still sticky with soft-drink that he had somehow managed to spray all over their prospective business partners in his wild gesticulating and impassioned speech making. Did that really happen? Not even in his wildest thought spirals had he anticipated this particular reason for him losing the account. </p><p>As he dragged himself on board he could already envision his bosses’ lips puckering in displeasure as he told her what exactly had occurred in his first client meeting. </p><p>He tried to put it from his mind to prepare himself for one of his least favourite experiences: flying. 178cm of anxiety and hyperactivity and an airbound steel container did not mix. Handing the air-hostess his ticket he waited to be herded to the cattle-class at the rear of the plane. The immaculate flight attendant took in his rumpled suit, miserable expression and light dusting of soda-spray. “You look like you’ve had a rough day”</p><p>Stiles huffed a humourless laugh “You could say that.”</p><p>“How about an upgrade?”</p><p>Stiles’ eyes narrowed for a millisecond in suspicion- he wasn’t Scott- who the world showered in sunshine and rainbows. “Will it cost extra? This is a work expense”</p><p>The lady dimpled at him “No extra cost at all- we have a passenger who booked an extra seat, but his flight companion cancelled last minute. I don’t think he’ll mind sharing on this occasion” </p><p>Stiles shrugged his shoulders in bemusement and stowed his carry-on in the overhead of the first-class seat she ushered him to. He doubted very much that a rich fat cat ‘wouldn’t mind’ that his extra seat had been taken. He however, would be too preoccupied trying to stifle a panic-attack during take-off and landing to notice much of any of his surroundings. Stiles had just settled into the plush cushioning of his seat when the guy in question arrived.<br/>
Stiles could feel his eyebrows climbing as all his assumptions about what the guy would like were proven wrong.<br/>
No, he was not middle aged, overweight, or it seemed, disgruntled in the slightest. Instead he was tanned, muscled man in his early twenties, who was saying in a deep, calming voice; </p><p>“How are you, sweetie?” </p><p>“Uh, ok?” Stiles shot back. The man gave him a puzzled look and pointed to his earpods, continuing his phone conversation, revealing himself to be ‘Uncle Derek’ to whoever he was talking to. Stiles curled further into his seat and tried not to die of embarrassment. Alcohol, he thought fervently. Alcohol was the only thing that could fix this. He ordered a glass of fancy first class champagne at the next possible opportunity.<br/>
…<br/>
Halfway into the flight and Stiles was feeling very jolly. He had guzzled lots of lovely sparkly alcohol, his long limbs felt heavy and comfortable as he draped them just slightly over the seat in front and he was stealing looks at his gorgeous seat companion and his artful stubble. </p><p>His bliss was cut short by the arrival of a weedy looking steward. “Excuse me sir, but that is unacceptable” he said, gesturing to Stiles’ legs. </p><p>His seat companion smirked slightly. Ugh, no matter how good looking he was, he was cancelled. Just as Stiles was plotting a petty plane revenge, a big surge of turbulence buffeted the aircraft. Lots of passengers screamed, Stiles included. </p><p>“Hey, it’s ok” Derek said, brown eyes crinkling in concern. Alright, he was uncancelled.<br/>
The steward shot Derek an appreciative look as Stiles shot him a greasy. Yes, he was attractive, but they all might be about to die. Another jolt of turbulence, another round of screaming. “Nooothing to worry about. Just some turbulence folks. We ask that you all remain seated until the pilot has switched off the seatbelt sign.” </p><p>The steward’s pitch climbed on the last sentence as he began scrambling his way back to the crew seating. Another huge quake sent Stile’s stomach into a flip and his hand careening into Derek’s. Stiles felt his cheeks heat in embarrassment. Great, he was going to die, but at least he got to hold a hot guy’s hand. The plane shook and took a slight dive and Stiles screamed again. </p><p>“Fuck, we’re going to fucking die!” Stiles babbled in a panic. </p><p>“Hey, hey, we’re not going to die- they said it was just turbulence” </p><p>Great, Derek was actively holding his hand and trying to calm him down. </p><p>“Well that’s what they would say, right?” Stiles spat. “They’re not going to come on the speakers and say alright folks, this is the end. But this IS definitely the end.” </p><p>Derek gave him an unimpressed look, but the plane shuddered again and Stiles could not care less. </p><p>“Aghh I’m going to die and the bloody dickhead I’ve been dating is going to think I actually loved him. I don’t think I’ve ever really loved anyone. I’m yet to be convinced true love actually exists!” </p><p>Stiles cried out in panic, and then felt an additional loop of panic when he realised he was clutching Derek’s hand to his chest. He turned his face to look at Derek in horror, but Derek was just looking at him in wide eyed fascination. A dangerous thing, to look even mildly encouraging when Stiles began on a verbal rant. He felt his internal floodgates open. </p><p>“Jackson and I started dating right after high school. Which was such a dumb idea, but my best friend, Scott. Omigod Scott’s never going to see me again, he’s going to be so sad.” </p><p>Derek made mildly sympathetic noises and squeezed Stile’s hand as the plane did another shaky roll. </p><p>“Anyway he started dating this girl and wouldn’t shut up about how great dating was and Jackson, I dunno, he was basically just there? And now I’m going to die on this plane and never get to tell him high-fashion fanny packs aren’t a thing, they were never a thing and also he isn’t as good at sex as he thinks he is.” Derek gave a tiny nose-snort at the fanny pack comment and Stiles wouldn’t have caught it if he wasn’t basically smooshed right against him, his body a hot line of heat against his side. It was so nice. If he wasn’t convinced he was going to die on this plane he could actually enjoy it. </p><p>“And my dad- ohhh my Dad is going to be crushed by my plane-death. He might start ordering pizzas immediately to cope with the grief. Too bad I pre-emptively blacklisted his number against all the major fast-food joints in town.” Stiles was too caught up to notice the plane seemed to be flying on a more even footing.<br/>
In fact, he started sobbing just the tiniest bit “All the things I never got to do or share with people- I tear up when I hear Lana Del Ray songs, y’know? I’ve never told anyone that- not even Scott. I can’t help it- her lyrics are just so poignant!” Stiles took huge gulps of air and gradually felt his panic start to subside like water draining out of a sink. </p><p>Derek nodded, bewildered and gave their joined hands a little shake. </p><p>“Are you feeling better?”</p><p>Stiles blinked and gave a little nod. Slowly, he began to take in their surroundings, especially the fact that he could see the bright spotlights of the airport tarmac shining outside the plane window. The plane which was sitting firmly on that tarmac.<br/>
Derek noticed his gaze and gave a small smirk. </p><p>“We landed ages ago. We’ve been on the tarmac for 30 minutes.”</p><p>Stiles looked at him agape. “Why on earth didn’t you tell me to shut up, then?”</p><p>Derek’s shrug was almost self-depreciative “It seemed like you had a lot to get off your chest” </p><p>And, Derek added privately to himself as he watched Stiles walk away through the terminal, because his wolf had felt soothed by his chatter and the way this stranger had trusted him so completely with his hopes and fears.  He had to physically force himself to turn away and make his way to his own car, resolutely not chasing the scent trail that led him back to Stiles.</p>
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